


Lazarus

by NAOA



Category: Gambit (Comic), X-Men, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Kidnapping, Motorcycles, Mutant Powers, Mutants, Mystery, New Orleans, Romance, Thieves Guild (X-Men), Travel, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NAOA/pseuds/NAOA
Summary: Rogue hears tell of Gambit's death but her trip down south for the funeral sets her on a path she never expected.
Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this back in 2014 but never quite finished it, the last update was in 2017 and over the years I've gone back and tried to finish it. I can't promise I ever will but as I'm moving stuff to this website It came along with. I have gone back and attempted to finish this over the years and may still so if you end up liking it, don't give up hope. I had the story all planned out but writing it through fell apart and I still think about it sometimes so who knows what will happen.
> 
> Thank for reading!

Death was nothing new to the X-Men, but for Rogue, it never grew any easier and this time she couldn't believe who it was.

Scott had called her personally to his office to tell her and she still hadn't believed it. Gambit, dead? The idea was horrible, foreign and awful. She had sat quietly in front of him for a long time. Scott hadn't said anything, maybe he hadn't known how, certainly she didn't know what to say. An overwhelming sense of disbelief and anguish washed over her, her chest felt heavy and for some reason she found herself unable to remember the last thing she'd said to him. She hoped it had been kind, the fought so often.

Eventually Scott had put a hand on her shoulder and asked if she was okay.

She nodded shakily, trembling slightly, she couldn't process her thoughts properly and everything was confusing.

"His family told us he. . ." Scott paused, seemingly going over a list of words he could use but evidently couldn't find one. He fell silent.

"Do we know how?" She asked.

Scott paused. "His father called this morning, said it was a motorcycle accident. They're taking care of him down south."

She nodded silently.

"Mr. Lebeau asked if you'd like to attend he funeral. He says he'll pay for your plane ticket to New Orleans. He said it would mean a lot to Gambit."

She nodded. "I'll go."

Scott raised himself from his perch on the edge of the desk and walked around to a phone. "I'll make all the arrangements, do you want anyone to go with you? Storm maybe?"

Rogue tucked her hair behind her ear in an effort to make herself more presentable. "I don't know. I mean if she wants to go then alright."

"I'll call her in now, I haven't told her yet." Scott paged Storm and there was an awkward silence between this and her arrival.

Storm entered looking as elegant as ever, she looked form Scott to Rogue and gave a puzzled worrying look. "Is everything alright?"

Scott sighed and Rogue sniffed. "No." She sobbed. "Remy's. . ."

Storm's lips parted. "He's what?"

"We got a call from his father this morning, he's. . . he said he'd passed on." Scott said.

Storm's brow furrowed. "How?" She asked.

"There was an accident while hew as riding his motorcycle." Scott said, casting a glance at Rogue who sat still, her chest rising and falling as she tried not to cry.

Storm's eyes narrowed. "I must go to him now." She said, turning and striding out. A few minutes later they saw her out the window as she headed south.

Scott ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Rogue in slight embarrassment and half shrugged. He was at a loss for words.

"I'm going to go pack." Rogue said throatily, getting up with some effort. For a minute he looked like he was going to offer her assistance and she hoped he wouldn't but then he nodded and picked up the phone.

"I'll make the flight arrangements. Please give the family the school's condolences." He paused. "And mine."

She nodded and turned,her heart hurt so much. She hurried back to her room and sank down on the bed, head in her hands. She shook with dry sobs, hair falling around her face and sticking to it as the tears came.

It didn't make sense, Remy was perfectly capable of handling himself n a motorcycle. She'd ridden with his multiple times. Suddenly she could feel the wind whipping through her hair and feel his back pressed against her just as if she were really riding with him again and the pain this memory caused was so excruciating she doubled over, holding herself almost in an effort to keep the warm feeling of back with her.

She was distracted from her grief by a knock on the door. It was Scott again and he held out a set of faxed paper. "I have your ticket." He said quietly. She took it and smiled weakly, the departure time was in four hours.

"I'll be read soon." She said.

"If you need any help-"

She cut hm off. "I'll manage."

He nodded and she closed the door. Sniffing, she mastered herself and drew out a luggage case from under her bed and began packing. She realized she didn't have an outfit planned and went through her wardrobe with astonishment before grabbing a black dress and folding it carefully added it to the suit case. With everything packed she looked around the room and then at the clock, they wouldn't have to leave fro two hours, she sank onto the bed and sat quietly, too drained to cry and too empty to do anything else. She watched the digital clock for over an hour before there came a knock on the door, it was Jean, she came in with a gentle smile.

"Scott told me." She said softly. "Are you alright?"

Rogue nodded. "Yeah. I am."

Jean sat beside her and gave her a sad smile. Rogue knew she couldn't fool a telepath but Jean didn't cal her on it and it was nice to have someone next to her. Jean gave her a careful hug and they sat together quietly until it was time to go and then Jean helped her carry her bags downstairs and gave her another hug at the door. "Give him my love." She said.

Rogue nodded and headed out to the car Scott had waiting. They didn't have much to say as they went, Scott didn't know what to say and she was afraid she wold break down if she opened her mouth. She thanked him at the airport and he saw her off and at long last she settled into her seat on the plane, looking around detachedly at the people surrounding her. She had basically shut down her mind, it was so much easier than the tide of thoughts constantly washing over her.

She asked for a blanket and closed her eyes until the layover in Atlanta where she wondered through the airport in a daze until her plane arrived.

The final stop off in New Orleans was a relief, the warm, humid air washed over her as soon as she stepped out of the airport. In a kind of haze she was glad it wasn't the middle of summer. Then she thought that that was a horrible thing to think because she shouldn't be glad about anything do with the situation.

She hailed a cab to take her to her hotel and once there took a shower and stretched out before calling Jean-Luc.

He picked up right away. "Hello?"

She hesitated. "Hello, this is Rogue."

He paused a moment too. "Ah, how are you?"

"I'm fine. I was calling about the time. . ."

He cleared his throat audibly. "Of coarse, tomorrow at ten, there will be a service at the church first and then we'll move to the cemetery. You'll be riding with me, that is of coarse only if that's what you want."

She nodded for a moment. "Yes, that's fine. Tomorrow at ten. Alright, I'll see you there." She paused. "I'm sorry." Her voice was barely a whisper.

There was silence then: "I'm sorry too."

They hung up and Rogue sat on the bed quietly before laying out her clothes for the following day. She looked at them for a long time before sinking down and crying again. To be here, in the city Remy had loved so much but without him was painful and even the bright sunlight streaming in from outside couldn't life her spirits.

Finally she hung up her clothes and lay down to sleep but the impending funeral of the next day and the grief she knew it would bring kept her awake and it was only with extreme force that she managed to clear her mind and sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Rogue awoke the next morning feeling poorly rested. She showered and dressed with care and spent twenty minutes staring at herself in the mirror, she wanted to look her best for Remy. Still, she welted in the summer heat.

She took a taxi to the church where Jean-Luc had told her to meet him, the doors were thrown open and a large knot of men stood by the entrance smoking, he was not among them. She passed through and into the sanctuary, noticing the mourners were all members of the Thieves Guild.

Jean-Luc, his daughter-in-law Mercy and Tante Mattie were standing by a closed coffin in front of the communion rail, greeting the mourners as they filed by. She fell into place in line and slowly made her way up to the coffin. She wondered how many of these people Remy had actually known and how many were there merely there for formalities. She watched as a woman leaned in and kissed the lid of the coffin, she realized that it was Belladonna and that she had a far away look in her eyes. As she passed, their gazes met and it was a strange moment where two women who were not particularly fond of each other shared one grief. Then it passed and all too soon Rogue stood in front of the coffin, she wondered if she should bend and kiss it as the others did. She paused and froze up, not knowing what to do, she hadn't planned what she would say and somehow the idea that it would be a closed coffin funeral had never registered, but she should have thought of it, especially if Remy had been in some kind of horrible accident. The thought was too awful.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and Jean-Luc guided heraway to stand by him. He squeezed her shoulder and whispered for her to stay with the family. She shook hands with the others, most people just passed by and muttered their condolences, an elderly nun shook her hand and gave her a stern looking over. "I was Remy's teacher in the seventh grade." She said. Rogue nodded awkwardly and the nun said a few more words to Jean-Luc before passing on.

Finally all of the mourners had taken their seats and the priest began to speak. She was shepherded to a pew by Tante Mattie who held her hand warmly.

She sat through the service quietly, breathing in the incense and took communion with the others, Jean-Luc sat stiffly in his seat with Tante Mattie who had an almost disapproving look on her face. She wondered what could have been the cause of it. Their expressions were so out of place. Had things not been well between them at the end?

When the service was complete Jean-Luc took her arm and guided her towards a black limo outside, with him was Tante Mattie and Mercy, squinting in the sun. He held the door open for her and the two women and shut it behind himself as he slid in. She stared out the window silently as the city flashed by, they were leading the procession. The limo took several turns and they stopped outside the cemetery wall.

The pallbearers lead the way, holding the coffin high and winding their way through the mausoleums, the others followed to an old but well kept tomb in a corner. Rogue looked at it, stunned to see such an old crypt still in use. A large block had been removed from the center, creating an opening. They slid the coffin inside and the accompanying priest said his words and the tomb was resealed.

It was all so quick to Rogue, she could hardly believe it and stood numbly as tears rolled down her cheeks. Jean-Luc put a hand on her shoulder again and clasped it firmly. When the ceremony was complete and the funeral guests began to disperse, many of them talking loudly and a few even laughing as they told stories about Remy or about others whom they knew. It seemed more a celebration of life than a commiseration of death. She turned to Jean-Luc, silently asking what to do.

He waited a moment before guiding her along, following a smaller crowd of people who were talking loudly bout heading to lunch.

"Are you hungry, Chere?" Jean-Luc asked, putting his arm around her shoulders.

Rogue shrugged. "Ah guess." She said, looking back at the grave that was now sealed. Bunches of flowers were already wilting around it. With no people remaining it looked strange.

The crowd moved to an upscale restaurant and seated themselves near the window, the nun from the funeral was sitting across from her, praying before her meal. Rogue looked away, feeling distinctly unpious.

Talk had broken out and several people were laughing loudly, it was astounding how they could go from grieving to laughing. The nun, who had finished praying, crossed herself and turned to Jean-Luc to speak. "I was stunned to hear it." She said. "I taught that boy to read when you first adopted him, you remember? I just can't believe it." She shook her head.

"You taught Remy to read?" Rogue asked.

The nun nodded. "I did. Jean-Luc called me special, said he had a boy that needed help and he wouldn't trust anyyyybody else." She drew out the word 'anybody'. "So I came over and saw this little boy, big dark glasses sitting at Jean-Luc's table. I thought he might have been blind. But of coarse he wasn't, but he didn't know how to read much at all and he was stubborn too, complained that he didn't need to know how to read. Said he'd never had to before. But by the end I had him reading good as any other ten year old. So good he started school when he was eleven." She gave off a hearty laugh.

Rogue smiled at the thought. It made her sad but it also made her happy.

Jean-Luc laughed pleasantly. "My son has always been rather stubborn." He chuckled and then leaned in towards Rogue. "Wold you mind coming with me when you finish eating?"

Rogue blinked. "Oh, of coarse." Jean-Luc turned back to the nun and resumed his conversation and she wondered in her thoughts. Other than a few select people she didn't know anyone there, these were Remy's people and they belonged in a totally separate world. They talked of things and places and doings that all pertained to their world. She wasn't part of that world, maybe that was why she and Remy had fought so much. Belladonna had been part of Remy's world and it made her just a little jealous. She finished her meal and wondered just how deep the city and her people had been part of Remy, she'd never truly appreciated it.

Jean-Luc cleared his throat and excused himself, standing up. "Would y' come wit' me?" He asked, sliding out her chair. She nodded and followed him.

Out on the street Jean-Luc light up and offered her a cigarette, she declined, shaking her head. "Chere, I know this is goin' to be difficult but there are some legal maters dat need attention I was wonderin' if you would accompany me to the lawyer's office."

She nodded, glad that she wouldn't be left to her thoughts.

They hailed a cab and headed downtown. Jean-Luc didn't say anything as they went. He stared out the window and Rogue couldn't help but think about Remy as they went.

They pulled up outside the lawyer's office, the sun glaring over head. As they stepped inside a wave of cool air washed over them. Jean-Luc spoke to the secretary. "I'm here to see Judge MacGlynn about Remy Lebeau's affairs." He said. She buzzed them in and then continued her crossword.

The judge that greeted them was ancient, he was almost bald and his face was so thing he looked like a skull, in fact, Rogue could make out his bones through his almost translucent skin. He held out a hand and when he smiled his lips drew back making his skull apprentice even more frightening. She swallowed, he was a sallow reminder of death.

"Mr. Lebeau, so glad to see you again if only it wasn't under such regretful circumstances." He turned to Rogue, his crisp white suit wrinkling slightly. "And, ma'am it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She shook his hand and he motioned them both to seats in front of his desk. "Such sadness, loss."

Jean-Luc sat with his legs crossed and elbows resting on the arms of his chair. "Indeed, I never thought I would see the end of my line in such a way." Rogue thought he seemed almost detached sounding.

The Judge shook his head remorsefully. "Death is a wicked friend." He said. "Would either of you care of a brandy? I find it helps when dealing with matters such as these." He glanced at Rogue. "In a medicinal sort of way, my dear."

She nodded, a drink was just what she needed. He crossed and poured from a decanter in the corner. "Remy did not leave his affairs in order. It will be most difficult to sort them out. I suppose though, that everything will go to the next of kin."

Rogue took her glass and stared in to it. The judge continued.

"He did however leave a message only days before his, ah passing. Most unusual but I have long since given up deciphering the ways of the Thieves Guild." The Judge reached inside of his desk and drew out an envelope. "It's for the lady."

Rogue took it with trembling hands, completely forgetting about her glass and letting it slip from her fingers. Jean-Luc caught it without a word. The envelope was unmarked and thin.

"Well, go ahead, open it." Judge MacGlynn said, folding his hands placatedly.

She swallowed. Remy's last words to her were inside the envelope and she didn't know if she could open it. She didn't even know if she wanted to. Would it be better to leave it a mystery?

"Go ahead my dear." Said the lawyer, giving her a kind smile that made him look more skull like than ever.

Her hands trembled again as she reached across the desk for a letter opener which Jean-Luc promptly placed in her hand. She swallowed and sliced through the top of the letter. Inside was a single piece of paper.

Despite himself, the judge leaned forward and watched with rapt attention. After a moment she looked up, confused. "Ah don't understand."

The paper contained only four simple directions and no explanation.

Jackson Square,

8:30 p.m.

Be in front of the gates,

Wear something pretty.

Jean-Luc and the judge looked at each other with resigned looks. "My dear, I think you should do what the letter says." Judge MacGlynn said soothingly. "Perhaps it is Remy's way of giving you closure."

She looked down at the letter, horribly disappointed. She didn't know what she had expected but she knew it wasn't this. Then an idea came to her that maybe Remy had another message for her and she would find it tonight. Yes, She thought, that must be it Remy was always so secretive.

She nodded to Jean-Luc and the judge and then stood. "I'll go."

"Will you be alright getting back to your hotel?" Jean-Luc asked sympathetically.

She nodded.

"Have my driver escort you. He knows the way."

She thanked him and the judge and as she was backing out the door the judge leaned forward in a grandfatherly show of compassion and left a kiss only inches from her bare cheek. "There, there, my dear." He said. "You mustn't be too hard on the boy."

She drew back, puzzled. "What?"

But he had already closed the door to his office and she attributed it to a slip of old age.

Half way out she met two younger men coming in from lunch, the older of whom she guessed to be the judge's son and the younger, who was not really that young, to be his grandson. They nodded to her courteously and the younger one held the door. "Is he still in a meeting?" He asked.

She nodded and slipped out.

Out on the street she paused, the sun was bright and glaring, the air was warm and humid with the promise of rain and people were passing buy, languidly and in no haste. She found Jean-Luc's driver sitting in the front seat with the window rolled down, he was reading the newspaper and smoking lazily.

"You need a ride home, missus?" He asked.

She nodded and he folded up his paper.

"I'm staying at-"

"Mr. Lebeau told me everyt'ing. I know where we're goin'."

She settled back in the car and sighed, her head was swimming and now that she was alone again thoughts of Remy floated back up to the surface. She didn't want to cry but she thought that she might not be able to help it at this point. She sank deeper into the seat and closed her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

At eight o'clock Rogue left her hotel room for Jackson Square. She caught a cab, gave the driver directions and settled back. She had absolutely no clue what she would find and to tell the truth she was a little irritated with Remy for all of his mystery and secrecy. As she settled herself she wondered dismally if her irritation wasn't just a mask for nerves.

The cab driver asked her if it was her first time in New Orleans and she told him it wasn't and from there on out he seemed a little disappointed. She guessed he had been hoping to wow her with information.

At eight twenty she found herself standing in front the gates to Jackson Square looking up at the cathedral above her.

All around people milled around, most of them tourists taking photos and shouting to each other loudly. She felt singularly out of place and wished she was back in her hotel room. She watched a man siting near by with a guitar, he was playing for money and laughing with a group of college kids. Her misery and grief set her aside from these bright and happy people. She was not there to sight see or to celebrate the summer. She hadn't come to enjoy herself. She had been drawn by grief and could not have been further from them.

She was drawn from her thoughts by a irritating clicking sound. She looked around to see a man with a camera snapping photos of everything he could. She shook her head and turned away, checking her watch as she did so. It was almost 8:30. the clicking sound continued and she looked up again, this time the man was taking pictures of her. She grit her teeth. She was not in the mood.

"Hey sugar, I ain't an attraction." She said hotly.

He grinned and continued taking photos of her. She stood up and strode towards him. "Ah said stop." She stopped a foot away from him.

He threw up his hands and grinned. "Sorry, I couldn't help it!" New York accent. Tourist.

She frowned. "Delete those pictures."

He held up his camera and waved it in her face. "It's film, I can't." He held the camera defensively, as if expecting her to try and take it from him.

She crossed her arms. "Look, you can't just take pictures of people like that. It's rude."

He grinned and adjusted his sun glasses. "My apologies but you looked so lovely standing there that I just couldn't help myself."

She sighed and turned away. "Whatever." A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"Don't leave chere."

She turned eyes wide. She knew that voice. The grinning tourist raised his glasses and winked at her. She knew those eyes too only, she'd never thought she'd see them again.

Rage, relief, joy, anger and fury all washed over her at the same time. Anger won out.

She swung at him. "You-You son of a bitch!" she slapped him across the face. "You bastard!" She slapped his chest.

He struggled with her, trying to keep her arms from hitting him while laughing raucously at the same time. "Easy, easy! Aren't you glad I'm alive?!"

"You son of a bitch I went to your funeral!" She yelled, trying to slap him again and at the same time fight the tears that had started to creep into her eyes.

"Shh! Don't make a scene!" He hissed frantically, looking around. They were attracting attention.

Her anger ebbed and she let him hold her. "I mourned you! How could you do this to me?" She buried her face in his chest and slapped at it halfheartedly.

He looked at her with a truly sad expression. "Look, I'm sorry. Let me take you out to dinner and I'll explain everything."

She pulled from his grasp. "Uh-uh! You ain't takin' me anywhere. Not after what you put me through." She turned to march off, embarrassed by her own emotional display and furious at the sheer audacity of his request.

He chased after her. "Damn it, let me explain!"

She wheeled around, still angry but now hurt more than anything else. "You better have a damn good explanation." She said, breathing hard.

He had lost his sun glasses in the chase and looked at her with pained eyes. "I do. I promise."

She swallowed and then threw her arms around him. "I'm so glad you're alive."

He held her for a long moment. "Me too, chere." He wiped her eyes with his handkerchief and drew back. "C'mon, lets get dinner. I promise I'll explain everything."

He hailed a cab as rain started to pour and gave orders in a New York accent for a near by restaurant.

Over diner she calmed down. Her head cleared and she was able to think. "I'm sorry I hit you." She said stiffly.

He waved it off. "Nonsense. Nothing I didn't deserve."

She didn't argue with him and dug into her meal with force, practically stabbing the food. "So why did you do it?"

He leaned back and replaced his sunglasses with a pare from his pocket. The rain fell above on the canopy, misting them slightly. She wondered why he had insisted on eating outside. He ran a hand through his hair. "Guess it all started about two weeks ago. I got a hit out on me."

She looked up from her plate, eyes wide. "By who?"

"Now hold up, I'll get to the who soon as I get done with de why. See I was in Philadelphia goin' on two weeks ago, on a job." He caught her disapproving look and shrugged unapologetically. "I was gonna steal a Picasso owned by a Monsieur Blackburn. Now, Monsieur Blackburn is a very wealthy man and powerful too." She already didn't like where this was going. "And I was hired by another wealthy and powerful man to steal said painting. The trouble is, when I got there there was somebody already in the house. I don't know what happened, I blacked out and the next thing I knew I heard the door opening and Blackburn was home. I ran out the back and took a cab back to my hotel. Found out later that whoever was already in the apartment drugged me and left my prints all over de place." He looked up, waiting for her reaction.

She sat with her mouth slightly open, unsure of what to say. Finally she looked at him and the disapproval that had formed in her mind went away. He looked tired and worn out and here were dark circles under his eyes "So what did you do then?"She asked gently.

He cleared his throat and looked out at the street for a second, looking both ways. "Well, I tried to get in contact with de guy who'd hired me but he'd dropped off the radar. That didn't sit well wit' me and what with my prints everywhere and the whole operation gone south I decided to get outta town. I was in the middle of packing when there were shots fired through my windows. I hit the deck and crawled out through the door, took what I could. Made it out front and fund my damn tires slashed. Had to make a break for it. Lost the guy in the subway, came out topside, jimmied a car and headed west."

She put her head in her hands. "Oh, Remy. . ."

He sighed. "That wasn't de end of it either. Guy jumped me on the street in Atlanta. I blew half a damn alley up getting' away. Don't know if it was de same man. Reckon it was though. Looked de same." He rubbed he bridge of his nose wearily. "Anyway, stuff like that happened at least three more times. Last one was when I was run off de road outside-a Baton Rogue. After dat, I got in touch with mon pere and he helped me fake my death." He looked up at her. "I'm real sorry chere. I wouldn't have put you through dis if'n there was another way."

If he hadn't looked so tired she might have still been angry with him, but as it was, he had a kind of last leg look that softened her. "Oh, Remy." She looked out at the street and then back at him. "So what now?"

"Well, that's why I needed you. I need your help chere. I gotta find out who put this hit out on me before I get myself killed."

"But if everyone thinks you're dead. . ."

"Oh, dat ain't gonna be beleved forever and I ain't gonna leave de country like a coward."

"Well do you have any idea who did it?"

He sat back and folded his arms. "Oui. I'm guessin' it was either Monsieur Blackburn or de guy who hired me in de first place. His name's Johnston. But I don't know why!" He ran a hand through his hair again, tugging at it in frustration. "I cain't remember who it was that was in the house with me and there ain't no reason for dis guy to want me dead!"

Rogue reached out and took his hand. "Remy, sugar, calm down. I'll help you. We'll figure this out."

He nodded and rested his head in his free hand. "Thanks, chere. I'm goin' crazy here. Ain't slept since I got to New Orleans. Been hauled up at a rat motel."

"Do you wanna stay the night with me?" She asked. He looked at her and for a moment couldn't help the twinkle of mischief that sparked in his eye. "I mean to sleep, sugar." She elucidated firmly.

He chuckled and nodded. "Bein' near you would set my mind at ease."

Secretly touched she finished her meal and hailed a taxi. "Do you wanna pick anything up?"

He paused before nodding. "Oui."

The cab took them into a shoddy sort of neighborhood, passed rows of pealing shotgun houses and dingy corner bars. "You sure picked a nice area." She said.

He shrugged. "I wanted to stay outa the lime light and besides, it ain't so bad. I knew de place pretty well as a kid."

She wondered if she had insulted him somehow but he didn't seem angry and the matter was dropped when they pulled up in front of a cheap looking motel. "I'll be right back." He said to the driver. "Wait here."

"You're the boss." The driver said. He opened a newspaper and ignored Rogue. Gambit returned a few minutes later with a duffel bag.

"Alright."

She gave directions and about twenty minutes later they pulled up outside of her hotel. The driver gave them an odd look but didn't complain when they payed in full.

Upstairs she sank onto the couch with a glass of wine from the hotel menu while he settled himself. "You mind if I use your shower?" He asked.

She waved her hand and watched him disappear. Once by herself she went into the bedroom and hung up her clothes from the funeral, they were still lying on the bed. For some reason she did not want him to see them. She sat down and sighed. Her head was beginning to hurt.

Remy came back a about fifteen minutes later wrapped in one of the hotel's terrycloth robes. He climbed onto the bed beside her and seemed to deflate. "I'm glad you're here." He said into the pillow.

She ran a gloved hand through his damp hair. "Well, I don't know where else I'd be."

He smiled. "I mean it. This whole thing's a mess."

She silently agreed but thought the better of brow beating him. She let him sleep, wondering just how much sleep he'd gotten since the whole thing had started. She brushed hair out of his face and sighed. By all rights she should still be angry but she felt to weary to be angry. Too much emotion in one day.

She lay down and turned away from him. Her head was heavy and her eyes were pounding. "Oh, why does he always get into trouble like this?" She thought before closing her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning she awoke before he did. She watched him sleep for a moment, light from a window fell over his face, making his hair a shade lighter. He must have been very tired to sleep so late and she didn't want to be the one to take his rest from him. She ordered up breakfast and set the coffee table in front of the couch and was just buttering her toast when he stumbled in. She couldn't help but smile a little. There was something wholly wonderful about him being alive. He gave her a dazed look and fell into the seat next to her.

"You sure slept in." She said.

He ran a hand through his hair and helped himself to toast. "Sorry about dat. You could have woken me up if you wanted to."

She shrugged. "It didn't bother me." She helped him scrape together a plate of eggs. "Eat up. There's plenty."

He dug in hungrily. "You don't need to tell me."

They turned on the news and listened to the weather report. No more rain, at least not until the end of the week. Remy seemed to think that that was good news. He went back in the bedroom and dressed. She was glad he'd gotten rid of the Hawaiian shirt from the night before. He came back more awake and busied himself with her phone without asking.

He must have called his father because he spent a good twenty minutes arguing in French with the man on the other end, finally hanging up and then pacing around the room for a while before hastily calling back.

Rogue grew impatient not knowing what was going on, she crossed her legs back and forth on the couch and shifted, she walked to the windows and stepped outside, she walked back into the bedroom and made the bed. Finally she caught him after the second phone call. "What did he say?"

Remy sighed and sprawled out on the couch. "Mon pere says dat someone busted open de tomb to see if I was dead. De whole Thieves Guild is in an uproar. They're screaming desecration. Worst part is, now everyone knows I ain't dead. Tante Mattie and Mercy are having a hell of a time holding off the folk wanting to kill me now. As if I don't got enough to worry about." He ran a hand through his hair and groaned. "I'm gonna have to get out of New Orleans. Pere says I best get going today."

She smoothed out her slacks and crossed her arms. "Where are we gonna go?"

"North. 'Need to get back to Philadelphia and pay Monsieur Johnston a visit. Pere's looking for him now."

She sat down in an armchair and rested her elbows on her knees. "You think he set you up?"

"Can't t'ink of anyone else dat'd have known I was in Blackburn's house."

She nodded. "In that case I'll help you pack."

He waved a and towards the bedroom. "Didn't unpack last night. If you're gonna come though, I recommend you get your stuff together soon cause I'm heading out at noon. Pere got my bike in from Philadelphia last night, he's gonna have someone run it over. You mind meeting them wen they get here? I don't wanna be seen outside much."

She nodded. "Of course." She rose from her seat and looked at him, he had his eyes closed and his brow furrowed. She wanted to say something to tell him it would be alright but couldn't think of a single word to say.

About half an hour later she met a man in front of the hotel who had brought over Remy's bike. He looked at her curiously. "Is he really alive?" He asked. He was young and excited looking. She guessed he didn't get a lot of important jobs.

Rogue nodded. "Yeah. but don't go telling everyone."

The young man nodded enthusiastically and ran a hand through his hair. "I sure won't, ma'am."

She met Remy in the hallway, he had his bag and was waiting for her. "You ready?" He asked.

She nodded. "I'll get my bag."

"Mon pere will handle checking you out and I'll tell him to send the rest of your stuff to Westchester."

It only took a minute and before she knew it she was swinging leg over the back of Remy's bike. He had made the final arrangements with his father over a cell phone and revved the engine as he felt her fall into place behind him.

He looked around cautiously before taking off. They headed out through the city, making small talk over the engine. He asked her how New Orleans had been and if she'd gotten the chance to see anything. It always warmed her to see how proud he was of his city.

They sped on and crossed lake Pontchartrain in a hurry. Remy seemed to think they they were less vulnerable out on the highway, despite having been almost run over just a few days before. The 'accident' had not been without damage, through his shirt, Rogue could feel bandages around his ribs. She wondered how much they were hurting him and she tried not to hold on to him too tightly. She even considered just flying long side him but worried that it would bring too much attention.

New Orleans grew further and further behind as they made their way north, through little towns and greenery. As they crossed state line into Mississippi Remy made a comment about the state sign reading 'It's like coming home'. She stayed quiet, it was her home but she didn't have much there to go home to. He seemed to sense her thoughts and didn't say anything else about it. Before long they passed into Alabama and continued east. They ate lunch in Birmingham. He made her order at the McDonald's, said he didn't want to draw any attention to himself.

They finally stopped outside Atlanta. Rogue was grateful and she could tell Remy needed the rest. He promptly fell asleep in the motel and left her to her thoughts.

She showered and went for a walk around the building, stretching her legs. He had insisted they stay outside city limits and there wasn't much around except for a pizza hut. She ordered a pizza and took it back to the room. It was a pay by the hour motel but Remy had just left a hundred and asked not to be bothered. She sat outside in the gravel lot eating dinner and stared up at the stars. They were just beginning to creep out.

The entire day, Remy had seemed just a little paranoid and she couldn't blame him. How many attempts on his life had been made? It worried her but she was glad he was sleeping. And she was glad she had time to herself. That was the thing about traveling like this, you were hardly ever alone.

They hit the road again the next day and hard. They were up at the crack of dawn, eating a quick breakfast at a Denny's in Atlanta before starting the day's trip. They drove for hours. Stopping only occasionally at rest stops and gas stations.

Remy grew nervous when he noticed a green sedan following them, it was an older model and just the right amount of ordinary to escape notice. It wasn't until they were almost in North Carolina that he noticed. He mentioned it to rogue and asked her to keep an eye out on it. She did and was concerned.

The Sedan followed them from Atlanta all the way to Charlotte where they stopped for gas and sandwiches. They didn't see the car stop but it was there again when they were out of the city.

"You know dis means dey been following us since we left New Orleans." He said over the wind as he drove.

It was a disturbing thought and she didn't like it. "Try pulling over." She said. "See if they pass us.

The car did indeed pass them but within an hour it was right along behind them again. Suspicions confirmed, she geared herself for a confrontation. "Hold tight, sugar. I'll take care of this." She let herself lift off the bike and into the air. She dropped along above the car and then lowered until she was at window level. She knocked on the passenger side window. "afternoon, boys." She said, smiling brightly. Form there she got a good look at the two men in the car. They were hired muscle. Think and stupid looking but she could see they were packing. She didn't like that. One of them reached in the back of the car for a sawed off and she clicked her tongue at them.

"How'd you boys like me to give your car a make over?" She flew up above them and was surprised when she had to narrowly avoid a shotgun blast, fired through the roof. She clicked her tongue again and grabbed the roof of the car by the whole and tore it open. "Gimmie that!" She grabbed the shot gun from the man who yelped.

"What the hell?!" He cried.

"Freakin' mutie!" The other man yelled as he swerved the car violently.

"Listen up, you're gonna get off at the next turn off and you ain't gonna come after us again. You hear? Cause if you do, I ain't gonna stop at just ripping up your car. I'll do a lot more damage to you."

She flew along side them until they reached a turn off. "I better not see you again." She said darkly.

She rejoined Remy who was laughing. It was good to hear him laugh again. "Oh Chere, I knew there was a reason I asked you to come along!" He chuckled, slowing down.

She touched down behind him in the seat and put her arms around him. "They won't be back."

"If they are, I leave them in your capable hands."

They crossed the line into Virginia and camped out the night on the side of the road. There was no more sign of the two men and the night passed without incident. In the morning Remy said they could make Philadelphia if they really pushed it. He estimated it would take close to seven hours if not more. He said they could stop in Maryland if they got too tired, it wouldn't be a problem. She said she thought they could make it.

They drove through the beauty that was Virginia and the intense greenery hills, stopping for lunch in Richmond before heading on again. They reached Baltimore soon after and it was there that they took a short break to eat again. Remy asked if she wanted to stop but she said no, she could go further. Finally they reached Philadelphia at sunset.

The town houses reared up on either side of them and the city scape dis away with the marvelous greens they'd seen before.

Remy checked them into a decent hotel and hid his bike in a parking garage before settling in. "Tomorrow I'll call mon pere." He said, stretching out on the bed.

Rogue walked to the window and looked out. The hotel wasn't as nice her her one in New Orleans had been but she didn't complain. "Get some rest. If he's found Johnston then we'll go see him tomorrow."

Remy nodded and put his arm behind his head. "Come lie with me." He said.

She frowned and was about to object when he promised to behave. "Just lie next to me. We've had a long trip. 'sides I'm to tired for anything else."

She did as he asked and lay in the crook of his arm, skin safely protected and in a blurry moment before she herself drifted to sleep she thought about the trip and wondered what in the world could have made Johnston want to kill Remy.


	5. Chapter 5

Remy was on the phone first thing in the morning, calling his father. He spent a good half hour on the line before hanging up, eyes glinting in triumph. "Found him." He said.

Rogue finished pulling on her uniform gloves and tossed back her hair. "Johnston?" She asked.

Remy adjusted his coat over his armor and nodded. "The one and same." He said, taking off toward the door.

Johnston was surprisingly out in the open. Rogue had been expecting a more difficult find. He had an office near Wall Street and it only took a little persuasion and a couple of unconscious security guards to convince the secretary to let them in to see him. .

They threw open the door without knocking. I hit the wall with a satisfyingly loud bang

"What do you want, what do you want?" Johnston roared, wheeling his office chair around to see them. He was a big, beefy man with a hick neck and flat red face. His beady eyes widened as his expression froze in a look of horror. "Y-ou!" He cried in surprise.

Remy crossed the room in a few quick strides, coming to a stop before the desk. He glowered down at Johnston and Rogue noticed there was no hint of injury in the way he stood. "Did you put a hit out on me?" He snarled. She narrowed her eyes. The effort to stand up straight must have been causing him pain because his voice was strained.

Johnston flushed. "How did you get in here?!" He roared, pressing the button for his secretary. "Damn it! Denise!" He looked past them as if expecting to see his secretary to show up.

"She ain't gonna come." Remy said, drawing his attention back. "Now answer the question!"

Johnston reached for the phone. "I don't have to answer anything! Get out before I have you both arrested!"

In a swift movement Remy hand snatched the phone away and charged it, sending it flying across the room where it burst into several useless pieces. "You do now." He leaned over the desk until his face was only inches away from Johnston's. "Did you set me up?"

A muscle in the man's neck twitched. "You're supposed to be dead." He said, in almost child-like fury .

"An why's that?"

Rogue stepped up. "Answer the question, sugar." She was painfully aware of the "good cop bad cop" roles they were taking.

"Back off, you mutant bitch!" Johnston spat.

Remy slammed his fist down. "Don't you talk to her like that. Now tell me why you set me up and put a hit on me!"

Johnston floundered for a moment, his small eyes darting between them. He seemed to be weighing his options. Rogue cracked her knuckles threateningly to speed up his decision. He jumped slightly and swallowed, giving them a furious look.

Gambit tilted his head at her and motioned towards the desk. In a flurry of movement she grabbed the desk with one hand and raised it into he air. Johnston made a strangled sound and spluttered before speaking very rapidly.

"I was payed to!" He cried. "Blackburn payed me! I don't know why, I've never even met the man! He said if I told you to break into his home he'd give me tips for the stock market!"

Gambit paused. That seemed plausible. "How'd you get in touch with him?" He asked, eyes narrowed.

"I didn't, he got in touch with me!" He looked at the desk and licked his lips nervously. "I swear! My secretary said someone left the phone and then t noon it called me! That's it!"

Rogue raised an eyebrow at Remy. "You wanna go check out Blackburn's apartment?" She asked, setting the desk down.

He frowned. "Not yet. Did you put the hit out on me?"

Johnston shook his head. "No, I swear! I mean, I knew about it but I didn't do it!" He looked between them wildly.

Remy leaned over the desk. "How'd you know about it?" He asked, a paper weight under his hand beginning to glow.

"A g-guy came 'round asking about you!"

In a sudden flash, Remy had dropped the object in a wast paper basket where it exploded harmlessly and headed off towards the door.

With a last look over her shoulder Rogue caught sight Johnston exhale and slouch. He wouldn't be sleeping well that night for sure. She followed after Gambit who didn't break stride until they were out of the building. He took a moment to lean against the wall and hold his damaged ribs.

"You okay, sugar?" She asked, concerned.

He nodded. "Oui, just took a lot outa me." He caught his breath for a moment before slinging a leg over his bike. "C'mon, we shouldn't hang around for too long. Johnston will probably have called the police by now."

They stopped for lunch before heading to Blackburn's apartment. Over their meal they planned their escapade. Remy was sure Blackburn wouldn't be home. It was the middle of the business day. All they had to worry about what being seen by the neighbors.

Blackburn's brownstone was in a quiet, well to do neighborhood. Remy took is time scouting it out. The block was just upscale enough that people would be suspicious of a bike left unattended on the street. They hid it behind a dumpster in an alley and hoped the fence into Blackburn's back yard.

Rogue considered just breaking the door in but Remy insisted they go the subtler rout and pick the lock. An alarm went off when they opened the door but he quickly disabled it.

They were cautious, creeping around carefully. Rogue wasn't as experienced at breaking and entering as Remy but she did her best, careful not to bump into anything. Remy went straight for the safe and began rifling through Blackburn's papers. He cursed audibly and shut the safe. Rogue glanced over the desk. "What are we looking for, sugah?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Anything linking Blackburn to me. I wanna know why dis bastard is trying to get me killed."

They began rooting through the desk but quickly came up short. Sighing in irritation Remy looked around for another place to hide things. He headed towards the bedroom and she followed. The door was shut but hey only hesitated a second. He inside was clean. The bed didn't even looked slept in and a quick slap to the mattress brought up a cloud of dust.

Rogue narrowed her eyes. The whole room was covered in a layer of dust but the main room they had entered had been clean. "Hey Remy, I don't think anyone's been here for a while." She said, coming back into the bedroom. "Remy?"

He was lying in the middle of the floor, face down. She rushed to him and bent to turn him over when she felt a sudden shock to the back of her neck. For a split second her body screamed in pain before she blacked out.


	6. Chapter 6

When Rogue opened her eyes everything was very blurry. Her head throbbed and she closed her eyes again, groaning as she did so.

She must have drifted off because he next time she opened her eyes things were clearer. She blinked rapidly. Remy was sitting across from her on the floor. He was still unconscious. She tried to piece together what had happened. She remembered seeing Remy on the floor and kneeling to check on him. . . after that it got a bit fuzzy. She remembered pain and then nothing. Gingerly she touched the back of her neck. It was tender, like a burn. She winced., realizing her hands were handcuffed together. She tugged and broke the chain easily. "Remy!" She croaked. He remained still and she crawled her way over to him.

"Remy!" She felt his pulse. It was normal. Head still spinning and body still feeling weak, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

This time when she awoke he was awake too and her hands were re-cuffed. She tried to pull them apart but failed.

"Don't bother." Remy said hoarsely. "You have a collar on."

She felt her neck. A Genoshan collar. She cursed. More awake this time, she took in her surroundings. They were in an empty room. It looked like a bedroom. The only light came from slits through the blinds and from under the door.

She narrowed her eyes and turned to him. "Do you know what happened?" She asked.

He shrugged. "We must have been tazzered."

She was about to reply when the door opened. A blinding wave of light hit them and then receded before two men stepped in.

One of them was very old and nearly bent double over a cane but the second was a much younger man and stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

The older man spoke first. "My apologies for your treatment." He said. "But I could think of no other way to gain your audience." His voice was old and seemed to have lost most of it's timber, it wavered slightly as he spoke.

"Who are you?" Rogue snapped.

Remy looked at her briefly and then back at the old man who was now standing in front of them. He still looked faintly sick from being tazed.

"My name is Gerald Dubois." He said, his thin, old voice held the remnants of the New Orleans gentry. "I had no intentions of involving you my dear but Mr. Lebeau here made made that choice for me." He clucked his tongue slightly and for some reason she disliked the way he said 'Mr. Lebeau'. It sounded almost sarcastic.

Do I know you?" Remy asked suspiciously.

"No, but I know of you. And I know your father." Gerald Dubois took a deep breath that seemed to wrack his whole body. "Your father and I go far back, young man." His eyes turned to flint for a second. "And Jean-Luc owes me quite considerably."

"Den take it up wit' him an' not with us." Remy spat.

"Unfortunatly the man is hard to reach and he shut off contact with me long ago. I am completely severed from the Thieves Guild." Remy made a little noise, apparently surprised that the man knew of the Guild. "Your father shut me out years ago but I'm not going to die without getting what is owed."

"Like I said, take it up wit' him. I can't help you."

The younger man, who had not been introduced moved forward menacingly but the old man help up a withered hand to still him. "I trust you will take my message to him. I want the Thieves Elixir of Life. I am an old man and am not long for this world, Jean-Luc took my life from me in New Orleans and I want it back."

Remy laughed contemptuously. "Good luck. We ain't got it no more. Candra don't benefact the Guilds anymore and she stopped giving it to us."

The old man's wrinkled face seemed to retreat into deeper folds. His eyes danced between them, obviously caught off guard. "That's ridiculous. Candra has benefacted the Guilds for centuries!" He hung his head for a moment, apparently in deep thought before raising it again. "Perhaps Jean-Luc hid the truth from you. After all, you're not his biological son." He snorted derisively. "In my day, the Guild would never have stooped to scraping urchins off of the street to find an heir. We kept them on the bottom wrung, as was proper. Jean-Luc must have a mighty soft spot for a whelp like you."

Remy's eyes narrowed and Rogue saw his fists clench next to her. "Well, dis here urchin cain't help you. I was dere when Candra left."

Gerald Dubois was silent, then he turned to the younger man and motioned towards the door. They left and Remy and Rogue found themselves alone.

"Remy, what the hell's going on?" Rogue asked.

"No idea. I never heard the name Gerald Dubois before in my life and he ain't no thief, that much I can tell."

"Then how does he know all about the Guild?"

"I dunno." They sat in silence and after a while Rogue could tell the sun was setting from the light peaking through the blinds. Eventually it disappeared and it was night. She leaned against him, mindful of his damaged ribs.

They didn't say anymore and eventually his breathing evened out into slow, even breaths. She sighed. She was all alone and without her powers. It was funny, for something she had always thought of as a curse, she was just now realizing just how dependent she was on them. She felt vulnerable.

The next morning they were awoken by the return of Gerald Dubois and his compatriot. The old man took several seconds before speaking. "I have thought long and hard about this and I must hear it from Jean-Luc himself." He nodded to his partner who stepped forward and uncucffed Remy's hands before handing him a phone. "Please call your father for me."

Remy hesitated. "If I do, you gotta let Rogue go."

Gerald Dubois frowned and Rogue was about to protest when he interrupted. "Impossible. I have heard of your X-Men. I have no wish for her to go running to them. Make the call."

Remy threw the phone across the room. "Let rogue go."

Dubois was silent again before nodding. "You make the phone call and I will let her go."

Remy glared at the old man as the phone was handing back to him but he dialed. After a few rings he spoke. "Hello? Oui, it's me. Eh, non."

"English." Gerald commanded from across the room.

Remy looked up, asking what to say.

"Tell him Gerald Dubois wants what's owed."

Remy repeated it into the phone and then added. "Yeah, he got me. Rogue too." There was a pause and Remy sighed angrily. "Pere, who the hell is this guy?"

In a snap Dubois grabbed back the phone and covered the mouth piece. "Don't get off subject. Tell him I want the Elixer."

Remy frowned and took took the phone back. "I told you that we don't have it anymore."

Dubois ignored him. "I want to hear it from Jean-Luc himself."

Remy raised the phone to his mouth. "He says he wants the Thieves Elixir. I told him we don't have it anymore but. . ." there was a pause. "Not really. No. I tried to tell him. Mon Dieu, il ne veut rien entendre! Qui est-il? Comment sait-il de nous?"

Rogue flinched as Dubois's partner clubbed Remy over the head. "English." He snapped.

Dubois did nothing but looked at Remy to continue. "Tell him I want a meeting.."

Remy repeated the message and then looked up. "He says no."

Dubois frowned angrily before snatching the phone away. "You owe me." He wheezed into the phone."

There was a moment where Jean-Luc spoke rapidly into the phone before the line went dead and Dubois snapped it shut. He stood still for a moment before motioning to his partner. The two of them started to leave when Remy lashed out. His hands were bound again but he lunged at Dubois.

"You said you'd let Rogue go!" He shouted. "I did my part. Do yours."

Again, Dubois hesitated, for a moment he seemed a frail old man and then he jerked his head at his partner and Rogue felt herself hoisted up by the elbow and dragged towards the door. She looked back at Remy. Their eyes locked for a split second before she was pulled through the door.

She looked around, they had been in Blackburn's apartment all along.

"Put her in anther room." Dubois said, his voice thin and tired.

"You said-" Rogue started, fighting like mad to get out of the younger man's grip. "you told Remy-"

Dubois snorted. "My dear girl, you didn't really believe that, did you?" He cackled darkly. "I certainly hope Mr. Lebeau didn't believe it." Again there was sarcasm in the way he said 'Mr. Lebeau'.

She was tossed unceremoniously into another bedroom and left there. At least now she had a bed. She sighed and rolled onto her side. Things had taken a turn for the worse. Now she was separated from Remy and the even worse thought that he might be expecting his rescue now bloomed up in her thoughts. The minutes ticked by, quickly turning into hours. She could hear nothing from outside. She tried yelling but there was no response.

Soon after light began to fade outside the bedroom window and her stomach grumbled. No food came. She closed her eyes and made the best of what she had. For at least a while she would sleep. It would be easier that way. She wouldn't have to think.


End file.
